Ignite Your Bones
by deadIdealist
Summary: DeanCastiel :: Dean is seriously injured after trying to escape some hellhounds and their demonic owner, and his calls to get Castiel to him and save him have failed. Will Cas make it in time to save Dean? :: Rating for blood/gore and "dark" themes. ?


**A/N**: so i'm new to . i'm not 100% sure how everything works yet, but i'll get the hang of it soon enough! this was the first destiel i wrote (wrote it about six months ago? originally published on my deviantart account), and i'm sorry to say that it's not totally in character. i'm trying to get the hang of writing in character, though, just give me some time!

another quick note: i haven't read over this since i first wrote it in february, so please excuse any mistakes that might make themselves obvious! i do my best to proofread before publishing, usually reading over about ten times (i like to be thorough, okay?) but i never quite catch all the mistakes. anyway, please enjoy; don't forget to review, rate and favourite! thanks!

* * *

_"When you try your best, but you don't succeed.  
When you get what you want, but not what you need.  
When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep.  
Stuck in reverse."_

_"Fix You"_  
Coldplay

* * *

Dean ran as fast as he could with a sprained ankle and bullet lodged in his knee, his feet pounding into the gravel, kicking up rocks and dust behind him as he ran. His ankle ached and throbbed with every footfall, the pain spreading up his leg. The wound in his knee bled a little more every time his foot planted on the ground and pushed off again, soaking his leg in more blood as he went.

He was muttering under his breath as he ran, trying to stay focussed on keeping his balance. _Cas, Cas, Cas..._

Where was he? He should have been here by now, killed the hellhound, healed Dean. Dean had called for Cas twenty minutes ago! _Dammit Cas! _he swore.

Dean heard the footfalls of the hound behind him as he ran, getting closer and closer with every one of Dean's steps. The dog's own injured leg had slowed him down a considerable amount, but not quiet enough for Dean to make a complete getaway.

Eventually, running became too much for Dean. He didn't care anymore. He didn't care that Sam wasn't there (yes he did. It was good that Sammy wasn't here). He didn't care that Cas wasn't answering the prayers Dean was screaming in his head as he ran (of course he did. Where _was_ the bastard?).

He didn't care when the hellhound caught up to him, jumping on his back, claws digging deep into his flesh. Dean yelled as he went down, cursing Cas for not protecting him. At least Sam was safe and sound, back at the motel, nursing a broken knee...

Dean rolled over onto his back, gravel digging into the wounds on his back, poking at the raw flesh.

The hound was after Dean for killing its demon master. There had been more hounds, which Dean had managed to kill at the demon's cabin, but this particular hound had been the demon's "guard dog," if you will. The hound was avenging his master's death, in a sense.

Once Dean had passed out from the pain of the hound's claws raking across his chest repeatedly (not to mention extreme blood loss), the hound backed off, deciding Dean would die soon anyway. The invisible dog left Dean to die in his own blood, alone on that abandoned stretch of gravel road.

The faint flutter of wings could be heard on the abandoned road before a man in a tan trench coat materialized on the road.

The man – angel, actually – noticed Dean lying on the ground, thirty or so feet away from where the angel had materialized.

A sense of panic flashed through the angel.

Castiel ran towards Dean, trench coat flapping like wings behind him.

Once Castiel had reached Dean, he dropped to his knees beside the injured man, sadness washing over him.

It was strange, these emotions. Cas had only one previous experience with the human spectacle known as "emotions" – it, too, had been weird, to put it simply. He couldn't quite describe it, but maybe that was the point; lots of times, humans couldn't describe what they were feeling, right? Cas found he had a harder time describing these feelings than he thought any other human must have, being so unfamiliar with the whole concept.

He also found, though, that he quite liked the emotions. He wished he could have these emotions all the time – but no, he only had them when his angel abilities were taken away and was made all but human save for his "angel transportation." Maybe, once he had his powers back (if he ever got them back), he'd be able to _train _himself to feel...

_Like. _That was something new, too. Castiel normally didn't _like _things. He knew he liked Dean, though...

Coming back to the task at hand, Cas stared down at his friend. It was gruesome.

Dean was hurt worse than he ever had been before. He was bleeding from a deep gash on his temple, blood sticky and half-dried down the side of his bruised face. His nose was bleeding slightly out of both nostrils, drying on his top lip. There was a bullet wound in his left knee, some of the half-dried blood causing the fabric of Dean's jeans to stick to the wound; still-not-yet dried blood soaking the jeans further, turning them a deep, dark brown-red.

The worst of it all were the gashes from the hellhound's claws.

They weren't as bad as they probably could have been, Castiel observed, but, nonetheless, they were still really bad. They raked over Dean's chest, the fabric of his shirt torn to bloody shreds. The blue of Dean's shirt was made darker by the blood seeping from the wounds, some spots darker than others where more blood was.

Cas's eyebrows pushed together sadly. Sadness – he didn't like this emotion. He didn't like how it washed over him, and pulled him down, made him want to curl up into a ball and never move again. No, Cas didn't like sadness at all.

Staring down at Dean, Cas cursed his superiors, for they had taken away all of his powers, once again (besides his ability to "zap" places, obviously), rendering him unable to heal Dean.

Castiel grabbed Dean's face in both his hands, one hand on either side of his face.

"Dean," Cas said. "Please, wake up. Please, Dean. Just ... wake up."

Dean didn't move. Nothing. His (extremely and alarmingly shallow) breathing didn't even pick up. No signs he had even heard Cas's voice.

Cas shook Dean's shoulder, rather violently. "Dean," he said, his voice a rough growl. "Wake up, dammit. _Dean!_"

When there was still no response from Dean, nothing at all, Cas sat back on his knees, wishing Sam was here. He'd probably be able to wake up Dean. Sam – where was he, anyway?

Cas didn't dwell on that. He was too angry at his lack of _angel mojo _to dwell on anything else except for Dean and his injuries.

As he stared down at his broken friend, Cas felt a strange prickling sensation at the back of his eyes and at the tip of his nose – were these the warning signs of _tears_? Was Castiel going to _cry_?

Now Cas was angry again – at his obvious and horrific vulnerability – his _humanness. _He hated it. He suddenly _hated _these feelings.__

  
"Dean," Cas said hoarsely. "Wake up, Dean. Please."

Cas fought the prickling sensation at the back of his eyes, and won. Finally, a battle Castiel had won.

He kept staring down at Dean, Cas's hands back on either side of his face.

He didn't say anything, or move, for an entire ten minutes.

Finally, after what felt like a thousand years (Cas knew what a thousand years felt like, too, and this definitely felt like that), Dean started to move – his eyelids fluttered a bit, his head under Castiel's hands shifting a fraction.

Castiel felt a huge wave of relief was over him – it washed away his sadness, in every sense of the phrase.

Dean opened his eyes and stared up at Castiel. Neither of them said a thing.

"Dean," Cas whispered in a harsh voice. He was _so _relieved.

"C–Cas," Dean managed to choke out, wincing from the terrible pain it caused him.

"Quiet," Cas said, leaning over Dean. "I'm going to fix you, don't worry."

Cas kissed Dean between the eyes. A pained but glad smile found itself onto Dean's face as he closed his eyes.


End file.
